


You Can't Keep My Brother

by seadreams



Category: DCU
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Control, Pseudo-Incest, Public Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 04:29:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17860304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seadreams/pseuds/seadreams
Summary: Jason is missing, and Tim seems to be the only one who cares that he’s gone. Finding him isn’t the hard part, it’s what Roman has him donextthat has him questioning everything he stands for.





	You Can't Keep My Brother

**Author's Note:**

> you: bb this fic is so nasty  
> me: that me kink
> 
> Very, very, VERY dub/non-con. Warnings (and spoilers) in the notes below. Please read them if you're unsure!
> 
> Title taken from the song ‘Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough for the Two of Us’ by My Chemical Romance.
> 
> ***
> 
> This work has been translated into [Russian](https://ficbook.net/readfic/7976044/) by Asphyxia.

Tim figures out where Jason is before anyone else.

Don’t get him wrong, he isn’t bragging, he just finds it alarming that no one before him has even _tried_ _._ Or perhaps he is being too cynical, perhaps he is discrediting someone, maybe there _is_ someone else out there who has been equally as worried—Roy, maybe, though that’s a big _maybe_ because he and Jason don’t keep in contact for months at a time—but most of the people who are _meant_ to care seem not to care at all.

“He’s probably off in outer space again. Don’t worry, he can take care of himself,” Dick had said two days ago when Tim brought up his concerns with him.

“It isn’t unlike the Red Hood to fall off the radar, Tim, he’s an outlaw,” Bruce had said dismissively yesterday after Tim had shown him the lack of activity from Jason’s feeds.

But Tim’s intuitions—and data—told him he was still in Gotham. The nano tracker he’d secretly placed on Jason’s helmet (after a particularly scary run in with Deathstroke, Tim had taken his concern to a new level—but no one needs to know that) was still pinging, broadcasting its location to his personal computer. A small abandoned factory in a dilapidated neighbourhood on the other side of Gotham, of course. But the thing was, the little dot that signified Jason hadn’t moved in three days.

There could have been many explanations. Perhaps Jason discovered the tracker and took it off and left it lying somewhere. Perhaps he encountered a situation where he had to abandon his helmet. Perhaps he was dead, his body left to rot on the ground, and nobody had thought to look for him.

Tim was prepared for the worst.

But finding Jason naked, gagged, and swinging from the factory rafters isn’t really something he was expecting. He seems to be unconscious, and from what Tim can see, physically unharmed, so he doesn’t see any harm in getting him down. Unless, of course, this is some sort of booby trap which, going by the way Jason’s been left out in the open for him like bait, it probably is.

He considers calling Bruce or Dick, but then decides against it. They didn’t seem to care whether Jason was fine or not, they didn’t listen to Tim’s concerns, so what’s the use of calling them now? He found Jason on his own and he can deal with this on his own. He doesn’t need their help.

He does a quick scan of the contraption holding him up, expecting some sort of complicated mechanism to unlock, but all it is is a basic pulley system, the end of the rope tied to a hook on one of the pillars near the wall. There aren’t any other unexplained wires attached, so Tim feels no reason to fear a bomb going off.

He huffs in frustration. He is incredibly confused. Someone left Jason out here by himself, left him unguarded and unharmed—it’s all too easy. There must be something he isn’t seeing.

 _Ah, fuck it,_ he thinks. He’ll deal with the consequences as they come.

He unties the rope from around the hook and slowly lowers Jason down. The moment Jason reaches the ground however, his eyes flash open, immediately landing on Tim. He moans something through the gag, and Tim quickly drops to his knees beside him, removing the gag from his mouth.

“Hey,” he says quickly, “Hey. Are you hurt? Are you injured?” He’s running his hands all over Jason’s face under the guise of checking for wounds, but really, he’s just so relieved to see Jason again, he needs to touch him to ground himself.

“M’okay,” Jason answers, and his voice is low and hoarse, possibly from disuse. “M’thirsty.”

“Okay. Okay,” Tim says, nodding. “I’ll untie you and get you out of here. Can you stand?”

Jason shakes his head. No, of course not. He’s been suspended in the air for possibly three days, the ropes wrapped around his legs and feet have definitely cut off his circulation. Getting Jason out without any equipment is going to be a struggle, but once they’re out and on Tim’s bike, everything will be fine. He’ll bring Jason to Leslie and get him proper treatment.

He starts cutting off the ropes binding his limbs together. They’re all arranged in intricate patterns, with an unnecessary amount of rope used, and the way they’re tied together—Tim hasn’t seen anything like it before. When he gets the ropes off Jason, there are painful-looking red marks running criss-crossed along his thighs and chest. His wrists look the worst—they’re purple because they were bound so tightly in a bid to prevent him from escaping.

“Hurts,” Jason murmurs, blinking slowly before his eyes shut.

“How long have you been here?” Tim asks, before Jason can slip into unconsciousness again.

“Few hours. Tied me up in the… morning,” Jason answers slowly.

“Who?” Tim urges. “Who tied you up?”

“Black Mask.” The words come out in a whisper.

Tim feels anger flare up in his gut. _Roman_ _._ He’d heard Jason was working undercover for him, did Roman somehow figure out who he is? Did he torture Jason for information? Whatever happened, Tim needs to get Jason out before Roman can return and get his hands on him again. Roman stripping Jason naked and paying such close attention to how he tied him up—almost _decorating_ his skin with the rope—doesn’t leave… _pleasant_ implications in Tim’s mind.

He detaches his cape, laying it down so there’s at least something protecting Jason’s already sensitive skin from dragging across the concrete. Jason makes an inquisitive noise as he watches him.

“I’m gonna have to drag you, Jay, I’m sorry,” Tim tells him. “I can’t carry you.” Jason laughs softly.

“Skinny bird,” he murmurs, his eyes shutting again. He makes a pained sound, a low moan emanating from the back of his throat, his face scrunching up in discomfort. “Hurts,” he says.

“I know it does, I know. I have to get you out of here.” He moves behind Jason’s head and slides his hands under Jason’s arms, lifting him up slightly. Gently, very gently, he pulls him over and lays him down on the cape. After that, he grabs the head of the cape with two hands and starts pulling him to the doors.

Jason starts crying out—desperate, stuttering sounds that Tim hasn’t ever heard from him before—and Tim’s heart stops. He lets Jason’s arms go and drops to his knees beside him again, uttering hasty apologies.

“M’sorry, Jay, m’so sorry, what’s wrong? Was that too fast? I wanted to be quick—”

“No,” Jason says, gasping and gritting his teeth in intervals, like the pain is so much he’s torn between shouting out and keeping it in. “Something’s wrong. Hurts.”

“Where?” he asks, hands hovering uselessly above him. “Where’s it hurt?”

“Mmff— _Tim_ _,_ ” Jason cries, his eyes filling up with tears, obviously trying to hold back his pain. “He—Black Mask—” He reaches up and Tim leans down obligingly, thinking that Jason’s going to whisper something important to him, but he yelps in surprise when Jason instead grabs his head, and with a sudden burst of strength, pulls him closer, closer until they—

“ _Mmph?_ ”

Jason kisses him, long lashes falling over blue-green eyes as they slip closed, making soft, small noises that don’t sound so pained anymore. Tim is frozen. Jason’s lips—chapped yet somehow soft—press insistently against his, and Tim’s brain goes offline for a bit before he shakes himself out of his shock. Jason’s kissing him—he’s being _kissed_. An aphrodisiac? _Ivy._ Black Mask must have somehow dosed Jason with her pheromones.

Jason must sense that Tim isn’t responding, because he ups his efforts, sucking gently on Tim’s lower lip, then slowly licking a wet line from Tim’s chin to his upper lip. Tim’s lips part almost automatically, and Jason pushes in with his tongue, running it over teeth and inwards until it reaches Tim’s, and Tim—

Tim pushes him off. “Jason,” he pants. “Concentrate—”

A loud bang goes off from somewhere behind him, and in the next second, he feels pain shocking through his muscles, lighting up every inch of his body from inside. _Tased,_  his mind registers the familiar pain, _he’s being tased._ He shouts as the volts run through him, and it feels like ages before it stops. When it does, he collapses to the ground, beside Jason who’s staring at him with half-lidded eyes. He doesn’t look like he comprehends what just occurred, and Tim has never felt more afraid for his safety.

He feels more than sees someone shift him around, taking his weapons and equipment away, including his belt and communications device. The only thing they leave is the cape under Jason.

Once he’s able to move, he does so, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. He sees three or four men out of the corner of his eye, all wearing different kinds of black masks. He’s expecting them to start coming forward and beating him or something, but instead they move towards Jason, picking him up by the arms and legs. Jason, completely drugged out of his mind, lets them.

“Leave him alone,” he growls, slowly getting up onto his feet. As he stands, he sees that there are more people gathered around the factory, men standing on the railings above, staring down at him through the holes in their masks. On the other side of the factory, on the second floor, the observation room is now full of men too, and in the centre, sitting in an old chair, is Black Mask himself.  He pushes something on the console beside him and a loud buzzing sound fills the air.

“Well, would you look at that,” his voice, coming through the speakers still left around the factory, says. “The PA system still works.”

Tim’s had enough of whatever this is. He lunges towards the men carrying Jason and his equipment away, but he hears the cocking of a dozen or more guns, and realises that every single one of Roman’s men on the railings above has a gun trained on him, ready to shoot.

“Whatever you want, Roman,” Tim shouts, “I’m not going to give it to you.”

Roman tsks. “Little bird, you haven’t even heard me out.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I’m not going to like it.” He watches as the men carry Jason up the stairs towards the observation room. With every step they take, Tim’s hope for the situation diminishes more and more. “Let me take Jason back. You’ve already done enough to him, he needs help now.”

“Help?” Roman echoes. “What help could he possibly need?” The men carry Jason into the room and set him down beside Roman in another chair, and Roman turns to look at him. “He looks fine to me. _More_ than fine.”

“What do you want, Roman?” Tim finally concedes, uncomfortable with the way Roman’s staring at Jason’s naked form and wanting to call his attention away from him.

Roman looks away, turning his gaze back to Tim. He cocks his head to one side in a somewhat playful manner and says, “Jason has, as I’m sure you know, been working under me the past few months. He was the perfect, ever-loyal soldier, ready to follow in my footsteps—or so I thought. Turns out, the guy running around with a red bat on his chest, telling everyone that he’s done with Bats is… well, still a Bat. Who woulda thunk? I wouldn’t have been so angry about it, in fact I would’ve been fine with it, but he lied to me. He crossed me, and I don’t take too kindly to being crossed. So, I dealt out the punishments I felt appropriate for his case. He wants to play at being my loyal right hand man? I’ll turn him into my loyal dog, make him listen to every word I say, make him obey, make it so he can’t _not._ ”

The horror that had arisen at finding Jason swinging naked in this factory increases tenfold at hearing Roman’s words. Jason’s been under his control for how many days, has been forced to partake in god knows what kind of sick experiments Roman’s been running—Tim feels sick. He should’ve been paying closer attention to Jason’s whereabouts, he should’ve been checking up on him more regularly, but he didn’t, and now Jason has suffered, and _is_ suffering because of it.

“So that’s what we’ve been doing these past few days.” Roman shrugs. “I do admit, it was getting a little stale, and that’s why I left him out here. I hoped someone would come along to rescue him, make life a little interesting. Took you long enough, but you’re here now. And we can get started.”

Tim feels his heart in his chest thumping hard, the dread in his gut growing and clawing away at him, fuelling his anxiety and fears, and when he speaks, it’s obvious he is afraid. “What did you… what did you do?”

Roman seems to hear him, even though Tim is so far away and speaking so softly, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he guesses that Roman has microphones set up nearby. He would, if it were any other time, be worried about the possibility of all of this being recorded, but the only thing that really matters to him now is Jason, and beside his unresponsive form, Roman laughs. “I gave him a little something to make him sweeten up to me. One of Ivy’s concoctions, I don’t know what it was, but I was told it would make him more…” he sucks in a breath, “ _agreeable._ I didn’t think it would affect him in… other ways, but, well, I do love a good surprise.”

“What did you do?” Tim asks again, unable to speak louder than a whisper.

Roman laughs again, and it’s the worst thing Tim has ever heard, he decides. “Well, I mean, why do you think he’s naked?”

Tim’s eyes fill with tears, his chest heavy with rage and horror now that his fears have been confirmed. “Give him back.”

Roman’s too distracted to hear him; he’s turned back towards Jason, and his gloved hand is awfully close to touching Jason’s thigh.

“ _Don’t touch him!_ ” Tim shouts, clenching his hands into fists. He hears the men above shift as they raise their guns at him again. “ _Give him back to me!_ ”

Roman pauses and looks back at him. “Give him back to you? Oh, Red Robin, was he ever yours to begin with?”

Tim gasps, shuddering. He knows he’s said the wrong thing when Roman stands, the temperature in the room seeming to drop suddenly.

“Let me tell you something, Red,” Roman says, leaning forwards like he’s sharing a secret. “Jason is _mine_ _._ Jason has been mine ever since he step foot in my car. He doesn’t belong to the Bat, to Gotham, or to _you_ _._ He belongs to me. These are _my_ marks on him,” he jerks his thumb towards Jason, on whose pale skin the red rope marks still show, “he listens to _my_ orders. If you think I’m just giving him to you for free, you’ve got another thing coming, kid.”

Tim swallows, terrified for what he’s about to say. But he _needs_ to say it, he needs to do anything in his power to get Jason back to safety. “Take me, then. If you let him go, you can have me.”

There’s a beat, then Roman untenses, sitting back in his seat and cackling. “You think I want _you?_ Scrawny little thing? Definitely not. Though it _is_ interesting that you would so willingly sacrifice yourself for him. I wonder why that is.” He taps a gloved finger against his jaw, pretending to be deep in thought.  “What is Jason to you? A friend? A brother? No… a _lover?_ ”

“He’s… he’s my brother. Nothing more,” Tim answers, though he sounds unsure even to his own ears. Roman hears it too.

“Are you sure about that?” he questions. “Then why do you think he’s _yours?_ Sounds an awful lot like something a lover would say.”

“He’s—I’m—it’s not like that—”

“Oh, poor Red,” Roman coos. “So confused about what you feel. It does make this more interesting, however. To be honest, I was expecting someone who would not enjoy this next part—say, the Bat—but _you._ I think you’ll be quite different.”

Tim doesn’t have time to ponder what he could mean. Roman turns once more towards Jason, this time kicking over Jason’s chair, causing him to topple to the ground. Tim shouts out in outrage, but Roman ignores him, grabbing the nape of Jason’s neck roughly and pulling him up to a sitting position. He says something in Jason’s ear, something Tim can’t hear because Roman isn’t near the PA microphone anymore. Jason nods in response to whatever is said, and Roman drags him along as he moves back to his seat, keeping Jason down on the ground beside him like a dog.

“Red Robin, I have a proposal for you,” Roman announces as he plops back down into his seat, idly petting Jason’s head. “If you do it, I’ll let the both of you go.”

“What is it?” Tim asks wearily, wanting to be done with Roman’s games already.

“Have sex with Jason.”

Tim feels all the breath go out of him at once, feels his shock make his face go blank. “…what?”

“You heard me.”

He has heard Roman, but he isn’t entirely sure that he _believes_ what he’s heard. He shakes his head, huffing a little disbelieving, hysterical laugh. “I’m not doing that.”

Roman shrugs. “Too bad. It’s either that or I kill him, so.” Roman waits for him to answer, thrumming his fingers impatiently against Jason’s head, and when he doesn’t receive one quick enough, he leans down and speaks to Jason instead, loud enough for Tim to hear. “What about you, Jason. You want baby brother to fuck you?”

“N—no,” Jason whimpers.

Roman backhands him across the face and Tim yells as Jason falls to the ground.

“Stop that!” Tim demands. “Whatever you used on him is obviously wearing off, he’s fighting it. He’s not going to listen to you any longer, might as well let him go.”

“Hmm, that’s unfortunate. I’m not going to waste any more money on procuring more serum. Once this wears off, I’m going to get rid of him for good. So you better decide fast, Red. Fuck him or let him die?”

“Don’t,” Tim begs. “Please don’t.”

Roman leans down, grabbing Jason’s arm and forcefully picking him off the floor, jerking him around like a ragdoll. He then moves his grip up to Jason’s neck, cradling his face in his hands. Gently stroking his cheeks with his thumbs, Roman murmurs, “What do you say, Jason? Don’t you want Red Robin to put his cock in you?”

Jason shakes his head and Roman slaps him lightly across the face, holding him still with his other hand.

“ _Stop it!_ ”

“Let’s try this again. Come on, Jason. Listen to Daddy. Remember what I said, if you listen to Daddy, Daddy will treat you right.”

“Daddy…” Jason whispers, the microphone barely picking it up.

“That’s right, Jason. Good boy,” Roman praises, and Jason’s face lights up, sinking back into the drug’s influence. “Now look at your brother over there. That’s right, look at him. Look at him there, he’s _aching_ for it.”

Jason looks up at him, and Tim’s sure neither he or Roman misses the bright red of Tim’s cheeks.

“Go over there and _suck_ his fucking cock, you little _slut._ Look at your wimpy little dick,” Roman says, reaching down and—ignoring Tim’s desperate cries of objection—jerking Jason’s cock once. Under the factory lights, Tim can see shiny precome well up at the tip and leak onto the ground. “You’re aching for it too.”

Tim hadn’t noticed it until Roman pointed it out but Jason _is_ hard. Whether it’s an effect of the serum, or… something else, Tim can’t be sure.

“Red Robin,” Roman sings, and Tim snaps his eyes away from Jason’s weeping cock. “Red Robin, fuck this little whore and I’ll let you take him home.”

“No.” Tim’s hand clenches into a fist at his side.

“Red. I’m not _asking._ Fuck this little whore or I’ll blow his fucking brains out.”

“No.” _Jason, get up,_ Tim pleads to whatever god will listen.

“No? What if _I_ fuck him instead and _then_ blow his brains out? You like that?” Roman bends down and looks Jason in the eye. “What about you, Jason? You like that? I bet you do.” Straightening up, he kicks his foot out, pressing it down on Jason’s head, forcing him to the ground. Jason automatically sticks his rear up in the air, presenting himself. Roman puts the barrel of his gun against Jason’s ass. “What if I fuck you with this gun?”

Jason whimpers again, and Tim swears he can see Jason press _back_ against it.

“Jason,” Tim whispers.

Roman coos mockingly, grinding the sole of his shoe on the back of Jason’s head. “Oh, he _does_ like that, doesn’t he? He _wants_ me to pump his ass full with my bullets, is that it?”

“Y—yes. _Nng—Daddy_ ,” Jason moans, his hips going around in small circles.

“Jason, _no_ _,_ ” Tim says louder, hoping his voice will pull Jason out of whatever trance he’s under. “ _Please,_  Jay!”

“ _Please_ _,_ Jay, _please_ _!_ ” Roman mocks. “You hear that? Little brother’s _begging_ to put his cock in you. What do you say? My _gun_ _,_ ” he pushes the barrel hard into Jason’s skin and Jason _yelps,_ “or little brother’s dick?”

“Jason, for god’s sake!”

“How _big_ do you think his cock is, huh?” Roman says, talking over him. “You think it’ll be big enough for you, you greedy little slut? I gotta say, he’s pretty small, but sometimes the biggest surprises come in small packages.”

Jason, panting, turns his head slowly, and Tim locks eyes with him. There’s a moment where the cloud in Jason’s eyes clears, a moment of clarity, and his eyes go wide and he nods once.

“Fuck,” Tim whispers. “Fuck, _fuck,_ Jason, I’ll do it.”

Jason sighs once and the cloud grows back again.

Taking his foot off of Jason and stepping back, Roman hums and runs a hand over the top of his mask like he’s running his hand through hair that isn’t there. “Good choice. I’d hate to waste such a hot piece of ass.”

Tim forces himself not to react. “How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

Roman chuckles. “You don’t. Boys!” He claps his hands. “Bring Jason over there to his baby brother.”

A group of men pick Jason up and half-drag, half-carry him back down to the first floor and over to the centre of the room. Another group carries over a metal lab table, and Jason is dumped unceremoniously on top of it.

“Go ahead,” Black Mask says, extending his arms out like he’s presenting Tim with an offering. “Have at it.”

Tim waits for the men to leave before he approaches. Up close, Tim can see how sweaty Jason is, how flushed, how… _stiff_ his cock is.

“Jay,” he whispers, stroking his leg in what he hopes is a comforting motion. It then comes to his attention that Jason’s been shaved—his skin is smooth and hairless. He doesn’t want to think about what other perverted things Roman might have gotten up to in the days he had Jason in his possession, so he focuses on talking to him, hoping that he might bring him back to awareness with his voice. “I’m getting you out of here, don’t worry.”

“Red Robin, I have a squad waiting to fire at my word. What is the hold up?”

“I’m checking if he’s hurt.”

“You know I wouldn’t injure such a precious little _hole_ _._ ”

Tim’s fingers clamp around the edge of the table. “But you’d kill him?” he gets out through gritted teeth.

He receives a sigh in return, sounding almost regretful. “If I had to. Such a waste though. He’s so… _responsive._ Try it. Play with him.”

Tim goes through his options. There’s no way he can carry Jason out by himself, but he has no comms to contact anyone for help. The few smoke bombs he had were confiscated, along with every other piece of equipment he had, so there’s no distraction he could possibly use.

No, think, Tim, _think._ There has to be something. He _always_ comes up with a plan, there has to be _something_.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a moan.

Jason is arching his hips towards the ceiling, pawing lightly at himself, but not touching his own cock. “Please,” he cries, running his fingers over his own chest and abs, and when Tim meets his eyes they’re pleading, _begging._

“Jay,” Tim whispers. “I don’t know… what…”

“Please,” Jason repeats, and he arches his hips up even higher, spreading his legs. Tim looks away from the sight.

“Don’t, Jay, I need to think—”

“ _Need_ it.” When Tim doesn’t make any attempt to touch him, Jason huffs frustratedly and turns onto his hands and knees, lowering his upper body to the table and presenting himself again. He reaches back and grabs one cheek with his hand.

Tim fights the urge to palm himself through his pants and cup, but any coherent thoughts of escaping are being chased away by the _pink_ of Jason’s hole. “Jay, stop, I need to…”

Jason whines, and Tim’s mouth waters as Jason’s stiff cock leaks, untouched, onto the polished tabletop. Jason turns his head to look back at Tim, and he licks his lips. “ _Fuck_ me,” he demands.

“I _can’t,_ ” Tim grits out.

Jason spins so he’s facing Tim, and lays down on his stomach. In a flash, he gets his hands on Tim, and Tim exclaims as he grabs his suit. He groans as Jason pulls his pants and underwear down, then discards his cup. Tim’s dick, released from its confines, bounces up towards the ceiling.

“Told you, Jason,” Roman says smugly. “I told you your little baby brother’s aching for your tight hole.”

“You’re… you’re _sick,_ Roman,” Tim spits, petting Jason’s back when he flinches at his tone.

“Are you going to deny the existence of the hard-on you’re sporting right now? Anyway, I don’t see _you_ trying to stop him.”

“I…”

But anything he could have said is swallowed up as Jason’s mouth slides over his cock. It’s too hot, too wet, too _good_ all at once and—he jerks involuntarily, his hips smacking against Jason’s face, and Jason chokes.

“ _Shit._ I’m so sorry…”

He feels Jason pull off, taking a moment to relax his throat before he tries again, taking Tim’s cock deeper, deep enough that his lips touch the base and Tim’s cock nudges the back of his throat.

“Holy _shit_ _,_ ” Tim gasps, and it takes all of his strength not to buck his hips again. “ _God,_ holy shit, Jason.”

“Like that?” Roman’s voice pipes up again. “Took a while for him to _relax_ enough to stop choking on anything I shoved down his throat. But the boy sure does excel now, doesn’t he?”

“ _Shut up,_ ” Tim hisses, his eyes squeezed shut as Jason deepthroats him, swallowing him down to the base again and again before slowing down and sucking gently on his head, laving his tongue all over the tip. Jason pulls off, then leans down to lick at Tim’s balls, sliding up Tim’s length to the top and sucking him down again, and Tim—Tim can’t take it anymore.

“Jason,” he says, “Jason, stop, stop— _oh_ —stop, I’m gonna come—I’m gonna—”

Jason flicks his tongue over the slit and Tim freezes up for second before he jerks, his body spasming as the pleasure builds up and comes to a head.

“I’m coming, I’m—” His hand flies to Jason’s head, and he pulls at Jason’s hair to get him off but Jason doesn’t budge, his lips closing around his cock as Tim comes into his mouth.

Jason waits as Tim empties himself, his cock twitching with every spurt, before he slides slowly off his cock. Tim groans as he watches Jason’s throat bob as he swallows it all down.

“I’m sorry, Jay,” he pants. “ _God._ I’m so sorry.”

Jason doesn’t look at him. Instead he turns away from Tim, towards Roman, and rests head in his arms, presenting his ass to the air again.

“That’s it,” Tim announces in between breaths. “It’s done. Let us go.”

There’s a moment of silence, Roman apparently caught up in the sight, before he laughs derisively. “What? Red Robin. A little premature don’t you think?” He tuts. “Poor Jason, having to settle for the inexperienced cock of a child. Look at his cock. Are you really going to leave your big brother like that? Be a good little boy and help him get off.”

“I did what you told me,” Tim argues.

“I told you to fuck him,” Roman corrects him, his voice gone cold. “Not let him suck you off. Don’t be selfish, little bird. If you get to come, don’t you think big brother should, too?”

Goddamn him, he’s right. Tim needs to listen better if they have any hope of getting out of this. Jason must sense his frustration because he whines quietly where he’s laying. Tim strokes his back and murmurs something soothing to quieten him. Once Jason’s settled down again, he glances back up at Roman. “I just came. How am I supposed to—?”

“Better work on it.”

Shutting his eyes, Tim almost collapses onto the metal table in defeat, but he holds himself up with shaking arms. “I’m sorry, Jay, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispers again.

Unfortunately, this brings him closer to Jason’s ass, and he feels like he might go crazy with how conflicted he is—he doesn’t want to do this, but Jason is incredibly attractive, and Tim—Tim’s been harbouring feelings for him ever since he was Robin. After Jason’s passing, those feelings got put on the back burner, but as soon as he came back as the Red Hood to Gotham City, well, teenage Tim spent a lot of late nights fantasising about thick thighs and hardened muscle. It’s incredibly obvious how eager he is to fuck Jason, how easy it is for him to be aroused by nothing other than his presence. Roman’s noticed it, and is exploiting it to the full extent; Jason, when his mind is clear, is going to realise it too. After they get out of this, Tim won’t be surprised if Jason never wants to see him again.

Reminding himself that Roman isn’t a very patient man, he forces himself to pull it together, just for now— _just for now,_ he promises, _you can fall apart later, just pull it together for Jason._ He leans down and says, as gently as possible, “I’m gonna get you ready now, okay, Jay?”

Jason doesn’t offer a response except to push his hips back towards Tim.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Roman’s grating voice cuts in.

“What?” Tim snaps.

“Check under the table.”

Tim bends down and sees a bottle of lubricant and a box of tissues left on the under-shelf. He would snort at the ridiculousness of the situation—Roman’s men leaving him _tissues_ to clean up with after he fucks Jason in front of them is just such a bizarre concept to even begin to think about—if only it weren’t so dire; he’s basically being forced to rape Jason for their entertainment.

“I take it you’ve never fucked or been fucked by a man before,” Roman says as Tim picks the bottle of lube up. “Too bad. Inexperience is only gonna hurt Jason more—”

“I’ll be _gentle,_ ” Tim hisses, annoyed at the fact that Roman thinks he would _ever_ hurt Jason like that. He may not have experience with gay sex, but he knows the basics. He’ll be good to Jason, he’ll make him feel good.

“I have no doubt you will. I’m sure you also appreciate just how good of a cocksucker Jason is, so you’d wanna keep him undamaged, it’s all he’s good for anyway, wouldn’t you agree? He’s not a hero and he sure as hell ain’t a criminal. Your daddy would agree. Maybe take him home and share him around with your—”

“Roman,” Tim snarls, “shut the _fuck_ _up_.”

“You know,” Roman continues placidly, acting like Tim hadn’t just cut him off and cursed at him, “I have no idea why you’re acting so high and mighty. You and me are very alike. There’s a reason why you didn’t call anyone else for help when you found Jason. You didn’t call the Bat, or that blue fuckhead, Nightwing. No, you wanted Jason all to yourself. I can admit my own flaws, I’m selfish. I don’t like sharing. But _you’re_ selfish too, little bird. Your moral compass is telling you that you’re evil for this, but deep inside, you’re really glad it was _you_ that found Jason, that it’s _you_ who gets to fuck him now.”

He shouldn’t be listening to this, he shouldn’t be allowing himself to fall into the trap of believing Roman’s bullshit—but deep down, deep inside where he doesn’t want to look, he knows what he’s saying is true. He wants Jason to himself, he always has. Not calling for backup when he found Jason hanging alone in this factory was his worst mistake; he let his feelings for Jason cloud his judgment, and now they’re both paying the price. He feels the last vestiges of his anger crumple, replaced by a crushing feeling of defeat. “Fuck,” he whispers. “ _Fuck._ ”

He can feel Roman and his cronies watching him silently, watching him as he fights himself from breaking down and crying over Jason’s prone body.

“This is incredibly pitiful,” Roman bemoans. “Do you need assistance down there?”

“No,” he says through gritted teeth, glaring up at Roman. “ _No_ _._ Don’t you dare touch him.”

“I didn’t say _I_ would. I have a few men here who have missed out over the past couple of days and would like a turn with him though.”

Tim smacks his fist down on the table, startling Jason who jumps but doesn’t currently have the capacity to turn to look at him. “ _None_ of you will touch him. Try it and I’ll kill you myself.”

“ _Ooh,_ ” Roman sneers. “Scary. Better hurry up then, because my men are getting antsy, and I doubt you could kill any of us with twenty bullets flying through your brain.”

Tim peels his gloves off and sets them aside. He then uncaps the lube and pours it over his fingers, guessing at how much is enough, before he presses his shaking hand against Jason’s hole. Jason jerks in surprise, shifting away.

“What—”

“Oh, you’re cruel, Red,” Roman says mildly. “Getting cold lube anywhere near Jason without warming it up first.”

Tim scowls but doesn’t say anything in response, just pats Jason’s thigh comfortingly with his other hand. “I’m sorry, Jay, I didn’t think. I’ll make it better.”

He warms the lube up between his fingers then tries again, slipping one finger into Jason. Jason tenses up for a moment at the intrusion before relaxing, allowing Tim to push in to the knuckle. It’s a strange sensation, feeling Jason around his finger, but it doesn’t feel bad. He wonders if Jason is getting anything out of it.

“How’s it feel, Jay?” he asks.

“More,” Jason answers, shifting impatiently, and Tim strokes his flank, hushing him like he would a wild animal. He slips another finger in and Jason moans at the stretch, pushing back.

“Let me go slow,” Tim whispers, pressing a kiss to his back. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Jason whines but stays still.

He scissors his fingers, taking his time stretching Jason out before he starts crooking them, searching for the spot—

“ _Unff—_!” Jason cries out, tightening briefly around his fingers.

“Good. Good,” Tim murmurs, pressing against the spot again and making him moan. He reaches under Jason, aiming to relieve him, but Roman’s voice comes over the PA with a shout.

“Don’t!” he orders. “Do not touch his cock. He can come without it.”

“What?” Tim looks up at the observation room, at Roman leaning forward in apparent excited engagement with the happenings.

“Let him come with your cock in his ass. Touch him and I shoot you both.”

“ _Why?_ ” It’s the most bizarre order Tim’s ever heard.

“His training,” Roman explains simply. “Don’t want to undo everything I’ve taught him now, do you, little bird?”

“You said I needed to have sex with him. You didn’t say _how_ —”

“Are _you_ calling the shots here?” Roman gestures at him with a gloved hand, then back to himself. “Or am I? Tell me where _your_ gunmen are and I’ll gladly step down.”

Tim exhales harshly. He goes back to fingering Jason, attempting to find his prostate again, and listening to the soft sounds that come out of his mouth. Jason twists his head around, catching Tim’s eye over his shoulder. He stares as Tim’s fingers pump in and out of his ass, and Tim stares at the wet pink of his mouth, his tongue flicking out every so often, hinting at the warm softness inside that Tim’s cock was enveloped in just a few minutes ago.

His cock twitches at the memory. He takes himself in hand and starts stroking.

“ _There_ we go,” Roman croons. “Aren’t you glad your brother’s so young, Jason? That refractory period must be such a blessing. Think about it, you can be fucked over and over again, don’t you love it? Almost like that time eight of my men took you at once. You remember that, Jason? They got you strapped down and started taking turns—”

“Shut _up_ _,_ Roman, _shut up,_ ” Tim yells, but his cock hardens at the thought. He grimaces at the ceiling in despair. He absolutely hates himself for it. He hates Roman for it more. He’s never wanted to kill anyone so badly before.

But he can’t stop thinking about it now—the way Jason would look—ropes across his chest, his wrists, his hips, skin turning red with friction. The way they’d abuse his mouth, fucking his throat so fast he can hardly breathe. The way another man would sidle up and fuck into his hole, jolting him, but then eventually having him relax and sink onto his cock. The way they’d just spend themselves inside, painting Jason’s hole with their come. The way the next one would just _slide_ in so nice and easy—Jason’s body swallowing it in like it’s nothing, like he was  _born_ for it.

Jason’s whine pulls him out of his fantasy, and he realises he’s stopped fingering him and has instead put all his effort into fucking into his own fist.

“Might want to save that for big brother, little bird,” Roman says snidely.

Gritting his teeth and trying to think of anything but Roman, he pulls his fingers out, then lightly taps Jason’s thigh. “Jason, put your legs down. I’m not gonna be able to reach if you’re up on the table like that.”

Jason lets himself be rearranged, sliding backwards off of the table and letting his legs hang down to the floor. Tim pushes on his back to get him lying on his front. He’s tall enough that he can lie his upper body flat on the table and at the same time, keep both feet on the floor. Tim pushes at his inner thighs, urging him to spread his legs a little more, which Jason does obediently.

The new position—Jason’s legs spread and level with Tim’s crotch—has Tim’s gut warming with excitement. He reaches out and spreads Jason’s cheeks apart with both hands, running his thumb over the hole just to watch it wink at him. His breath catches. _Christ_ , he’s about to fuck Jason.

He keeps one hand spreading Jason out, using the other to guide himself in. He presses his cock against Jason’s hole, and as he pushes in, his eyes roll back in his head at the sensation of the head of his dick passing through something so _tight._ The rim clenches around him, but he doesn’t feel much resistance, so he keeps going, biting back a moan when he feels how hot and wet Jason is inside. When he’s about halfway in, he pauses, giving Jason time to get used to him.

“Jay, am I hurting you?” he asks. Jason pushes his ass back in response. He takes that as encouragement, continuing to push in until he’s all the way, his hips flush with Jason’s ass.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he breathes. It takes every ounce of strength he has not to come immediately. Jason feels so _good_ around him, feels so tight and warm. His hole hugging Tim’s dick looks so obscene—Tim can’t help but shiver. He pulls out slowly, then pushes back in, his toes curling with the feeling.

“ _Yeah,_ god,” he huffs, leaning forward and resting his cheek on Jason’s back, then turning his head slightly and pressing kisses to his skin. “Does it feel good, Jay?”

The only answer Jason gives is a little wordless moan. It’s not exactly what he’s looking for, but at this point, he’ll take whatever he can get. Roman, however, isn’t as satisfied.

“Answer him, Jason,” he orders. “Does your baby brother’s cock feel good?”

Jason inhales, a shaky, stuttering little breath, releasing it on a whine. “Feels so good, Daddy.”

“What feels good, Jason?”

“B—baby—” Jason sobs, “—baby brother’s cock.”

Tim’s cock jerks at the words as soon as they leave Jason’s lips. “Oh, fff— _fuck_ ,” he groans, kissing Jason’s back again because he can’t kiss his mouth. He hears Roman cackle.

“A little sick, huh?” he says, but Tim’s too occupied to really absorb what he’s saying.

“M’gonna go faster, okay?” he says, brushing his hand across Jason’s shoulder and being unsurprised when he doesn’t respond. “Tell me—tell me if it’s too much.” He places his hands either side of Jason’s waist, pulling him off his cock before pushing him down again, snapping his hips in tandem. Jason’s ass cheeks bounce with the impact, and Tim stares down at where they’re joined, mesmerised. He can’t resist the urge to fuck him harder to see his skin turn red, to hear his quiet pants turn into desperate, ragged breaths.

“God, yeah,” Tim gasps, his fingers turning white where he’s digging into Jason’s skin, “mmm— _fuck_ _,_ Jason, baby, you’re so tight. You’re so fucking good— _ungh!_ ”

“That’s it. That’s it, little bird,” Roman says, sounding awed. Even his men start murmuring above on the railings.

Tim pays them no mind, he can barely hear them over the wet _slap_ _slap_ _slap_ of their thighs smacking together, or the sounds Jason is making: sweet, little yelps every time Tim fucks hard into his tight hole, or the way he gulps and gasps for air, unable to catch a breath with the way Tim doesn’t let up, chasing his moment of release.

There’s a moment where Jason reaches back, arm extended like he wants to push Tim away, but then he wraps it around Tim’s wrist, and Tim, overcome with emotion and close, so close to coming, laughs as he lays on top of him, pressing his face to Jason’s sweaty, hot back. If he shuts his eyes he can pretend he and Jason are alone. In his mind’s eye, Jason is guiding him, showing him what to do for his first time, and he can finally show Jason how he feels, and he can pretend that Jason—Jason loves him back.

“I’ve got you, Jay,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to his skin before he licks at the same spot and grazes it with his teeth. “I’ve got you, I won’t let you go.”

Through his gulping breaths, Jason says, “I— _nng_ —don’t—want—” He interrupts himself with a loud moan, clenching down hard on Tim’s cock at the same time. “Daddy, _please_ , lemme come!”

“Tell him to come,” he hears Roman say.

“You can come, Jay,” Tim says gently, “come on, come for me.”

Jason trembles underneath him, and Tim feels him tighten around his cock as he comes in pulses onto the table below. The sensation of Jason squeezing around him, _milking_ him, has him teetering on the edge. His rhythm stutters, and he gives a few more hard thrusts, vaguely aware of Jason trying to shift away from him in discomfort, before he’s coming himself, pressing right up against Jason so he can unleash himself deep, deep inside.

Jason collapses forward onto the table, and Tim follows him down. He stays there for a few moments, panting against Jason’s wet back, but he doesn’t have much time to bask in the post-sex haze because Roman is clapping, the sound pulling him back to reality.

“Well done,” he says, sounding awfully chipper. “Very well done.”

“Let us go,” Tim demands, detaching himself from Jason’s sticky back, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. “We did it. Let us go.”

“ _You_ did it,” Roman corrects him. Jason starts to stir, the sounds of people talking around him probably pulling him out of his rest. “It looks like our dear boy Jason is coming back to himself. Now, since you’ve put on such a good show for us, I’ll let the both of you go. However, I think you two deserve a good rest, so maybe I’ll have someone come pick you up.”

“What—?” Tim starts, before he feels a sharp prick in the side of his neck. “Wait—” His vision starts to blur, but before he loses consciousness completely, he sees someone off to the side aim a gun at Jason, a tranquilizer dart hitting him in the neck a second later.

He blacks out.

***

When he comes to, he’s being pulled off of Jason, strong arms wrapping him in a blanket before he’s set down on the ground.

“Wait—wait—” he says, looking back at Jason. He’s awake too, pushing himself off of the table, but when he gets up onto his feet his legs shake, still not completely recovered, so he collapses, falling into a heap on the ground.

“ _Jason,_ ” he hears Bruce say in alarm from behind.

A flash of bright red hair goes past—Kate, why is Kate here—and Batwoman kneels down, gently ushering Jason up into a sitting position and putting a blanket around him, all the while speaking in a quiet, calming voice.

“Why is she here?” Tim asks, forgetting to lower his voice and flinching when Kate looks up at him.

Bruce answers softly, “In the event that he can’t handle… being around men.”

Tim’s breath catches in his throat, and a sob works its way up his chest before he fights it down, crawling towards where Jason and Kate are on the ground. He sees red marks in the shape of fingers— _his_ fingers, from where he was gripping him too tightly around his waist.

“Jason, look at me, please look at me,” he pleads, but Jason doesn’t respond at all to him. “Jason—”

A large black shadow steps in front of him, obscuring Jason from his vision. Bruce bends down with his cowl off to look him in the eye. He looks tired, his face lined deep with worry, but at least he’s looking at Tim. He knows what’s happened here—he literally pulled Tim out of Jason—but whether he knows just how much Tim was forced to do, and what he _wanted_ to do, he isn’t sure.

“Give him a chance to recover,” he urges, and his face gives away nothing of what he’s thinking.

A soft thud and a familiar voice ringing out in greeting alerts them to Dick’s presence. “I’m here, B, I got your—” he cuts off as he enters further into the factory, taking in the scene before him.

“Nightwing, look after Red Robin,” Bruce orders. Tim watches as he straightens up and, after a moment’s deliberation, approaches Jason slowly.

Tim feels Dick wrap an arm around his back, hears his worried voice beside him, asking him what happened and is he okay, but he ignores him in favour of watching Jason and Bruce.

Kate ends up being unneeded. When Bruce crouches down beside him, Jason immediately goes and wraps himself around him, burying his face in Bruce’s chest, and Bruce, in turn, envelops him in his arms.

“You’re safe now, Jason, I have you,” Bruce whispers, pressing a kiss to Jason’s forehead. “You’re safe, son.”

The tears on Jason’s face shine when the light hits them, and Tim hears Dick inhale sharply, whispering, “Little wing…”

Bruce lets go of Jason for a moment to detach his cape, and Jason lets Bruce wrap it around him before diving back into his wide embrace, his shoulders shaking with his sobs. It probably feels like the safest place in the world.

Tim tries to get his attention again, calling out his name, but Bruce whisks Jason away swiftly, placing him gently in the car which, now that Tim has turned to see, is parked in front of a large hole in the factory wall, an unwitting victim of Batman’s haste to get here. Bruce speaks in hushed tones to Kate before getting in and driving off, and she comes to him, asking along with Dick if he’s alright, if he needs anything, if they should bring him to a hospital.

And the entire time, he keeps thinking that Roman was right. He’s selfish. Because he can’t help but wish, deep down, that Jason never recovered, that he stayed under Roman’s control. Because when he did, when he finally awoke from his stupor, he realised something that Tim can’t bear to accept—he is a _monster._

**Author's Note:**

> Dub-con in that Jason consents to Tim having sex with him, but they’re still being forced to do it by Roman, and it enters non-con territory because Jason is under the influence of drugs/brainwashing while they do it and can therefore no longer protest to what is happening. Non-con is very heavily implied between Roman and Jason, and there is mention of a non-con gangbang between Roman’s men and Jason.
> 
> -
> 
> My [Tumblr](https://jasontttodd.tumblr.com/).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [i had no choice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122753) by [yikesmikey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesmikey/pseuds/yikesmikey)




End file.
